The Woman Who Fell to PERN aka 'Dragonsoldier'
by beaker67
Summary: In all the Turns of human habitation on PERN, there was never any contact with Earth, or its people, until now. A ship has crashed, survivors are found, and the people of PERN are left with the fates of three soldiers from Earth. WWOMB has new chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The Woman Who Fell to PERN

a.k.a. 'Dragonsoldier'

**Author's note:** It took some time for me to understand Anne McCaffrey's world of PERN. At first, the books were too fantastical to be believable. I have attributed this to immaturity, since I thought the realms of these dragons and riders was in the clouds of alien world. I was only about seven at the time, so what did I know? Little did I know that it was a world of transplanted humans and genetically-modified 'dragons' who fought an interplanetary, organic-munching menace.

I did involve myself in a few, minor PERN rpgs years ago. They were never gifted with many members. My bent there was to have a character who came to PERN, but was not of PERN in any sense. A woman who, unlike the world Ms. McCaffrey so staunchly maintained as inviolate from such visitation throughout her novels, was from Earth and got acclimated to PERN. Long after the original humans on PERN lost memory of their true origin to legend and myth. To them, a woman like this was as nearly alien as they might wish to believe.

'The Woman Who Fell to PERN' is a take-off on the movie title of **'The Man Who Fell to Earth' **that starred David Bowie as an alien who, in human form, receives a huge shock about what it means to be human. I don't know if my character will receive such a similar shock on PERN.

What I do know is that Ms. McCaffrey would likely never have dreamed something like this might happen in her world of dragons, Thread, and gentler ways.

My story is set in the Seventh Interval. It is well after the time of the legendary _**Moreta**_, before the rediscovery of AIVAS, and is slightly AU to accommodate a storyline that, as I've stated above, was one that the true author of the 'Dragonriders of PERN' would have never envisioned.

**Disclaimer:** Making money, fame, or glory from this? Are you kidding? I don't own the rights to PERN or any of the details of it. My characters, though, are of my own creation. I used only the names of 'Orlith' and 'Hannath' in my story to show lineage of the current Queen dragon of Telgar. There will be no other reference to any other character [dragon OR human] of Ms. McCaffrey's world after it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**PART 1- CRASH**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Igen Weyr- Seventh Interval**

The green and brown dragons appeared out of clear, hot sky above the small Weyr.

The high walls baked in the sun and sent thermals upward that lightly buffeted the smaller creatures and their riders. It was a homecoming of sorts. A very sad homecoming. After the ravages of Thread in the last Pass and the upheaval created over all of PERN, Igen Weyr [the Desert Weyr] had been closed down. Its being manned was not a priority when compared to larger, richer Weyrs and Holds. Dragons and riders that opted to not transfer faced ostracism from all Weyrs and Holds. The presence of Thread had made the demand even more strict.

Now, in the time of the long-awaited Interval- nearly two hundred Turns had passed. The rogue, Red Planet was nearing its rendezvous with the hole in the Star Stones. Thread was going to return again to PERN. As to how vicious it would be, nobody knew for certain. Until then, there were things to do and prepare for.

It didn't prevent the riders of the green and the brown from landing their winged mounts in the small courtyard now. They were perhaps the last, real members of the Weyr. It was so many Turns ago that they were Weyrlings and their dragons were young. The Weyr had its hard times, but it was a happy place for those who loved it. A port on a shifting sea of sand. Then came the news and the closure.

Now, as the riders dismounted and removed their fur-lined helmets, the Weyr echoed its lonely stillness. Pennants no longer danced with the desert winds. Watch dragons no longer bugled. The ledges were all empty. The inner parts of the Weyr were likely shot through with tunnelsnakes.

No, this homecoming was sad. It likely would be the final time that its reopening would- or could- be argued in front of Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen. In flush times of Interval, there was the luxury to be complacent.

It still did not prevent these two from coming back. The duties were done and there was time to relax here.

J'sen patted the warm hide of his brown, Fesurnth, and let his blue eyes survey the vacant space. Almost teared; whether it was from dryness or emotion was not too clear. Sent a thought to his life-long companion.

_Go now. Frolic where you would wish._

_You are alright?_

Fesurnth asked, the inner voice slightly tinged with worry.

_Old memories, dear friend. My mood is a passing one. Go now._

J'sen gave a reassuring pat to the chocolate hide and the dragon looked over to his green companion. His eyes whirled some happiness at Asanerth's. Watched as the green waited for her rider's leave. Then the pair vaulted into the sky and blinked away. A short flight to a lake by the sea for a good dip. Then hours worth of sunning and resting while their riders explored their old environs.

Gaelissa's brown eyes looked up to the high walls as well.

She might be a green rider, but her thoughts ran deeper than most females who were. She had never forgotten her roots, nor the steady mind that would have made her more suited to riding a gold than a green. Even in middle age, Gaelissa would not be made to cower to anybody. Not even Weyrwoman Danellia who ruled Telgar with an iron hand. Her gold, Wesanth, had adopted her rider's ways- to a point. There was always the memory of the scene at the Hatching Grounds, Turns upon Turns ago, when Hannath's granddaughter- Isulnth- had eyed the scrawny, brown-haired girl and sent very warm thoughts to her. The great granddaughter of the great gold, Orlith, had honestly liked her. It seemed that maybe the gold egg might be possible. At least until the hatchling of it was faced with a pushy Danellia to latch onto. Gaelissa was heartbroken and had turned her tearing eyes to Isulnth, before looking at the tiny, emerald-green hatchling that stumbled for her and made her forget losing the mind- and heart- of the newest, golden Queen of PERN.

Gaelissa had thanked Isulnth silently for gifting her with one of her daughters. The golden queen had given a happy response. A Turn later, and the gallant-though old- Isulnth was dead of massive Threadscore that had come out of clouds. Wesanth now carried on her brave, loving, dragon bloodline. Still, it was not without taint from her Rider.

At least here was one place Danellia could not intrude. Even decades of Turns later, the woman was overbearing and haughty. A few women might count the Weyrwoman their friend, but Gaelissa never would. Besides, J'sen was one of the rarest few throughout PERN who loved Igen as much as she did. They both were dragonriders of Igen, before they had gone to Telgar.

"If only I rode a Bronze."

J'sen whispered.

"If only I rode a Gold."

Gaelissa responded.

It was an old custom. Certainly they didn't wish to lose their dear, dragon partners. Their colors were just fine. It was simply the injustice that only Bronzes and Golds could lead Weyrs. J'sen and Gaelissa had always had their dreams to bring Igen back to life.

They nodded at each other and were about to start off to walk through the old halls when a bluerider appeared in the air above Igen. Then another blue. Y'len and S'phen had come to visit.

J'sen and Gaelissa weren't the only ones who had problems with the Weyrwoman, or Weyrleader O'vis. O'vis at least was a little nicer, when it suited him to be. It did seem, with the passing of Turns, that he was growing more to the mellow side of his life.

The two blues landed in a controlled manner to keep churning up dust and let their riders get off. J'sen had to smile. The two, young men were often facing the brunt of being harried by older brown and bronze riders. J'sen was the only brownrider they ever had gotten along with. They also liked Gaelissa, even when other riders paid more fancy to young green and gold riders. Her age had never been a problem for them. Their flirting with her was now subdued with age.

"On the outs with the old man?"

J'sen quipped, a smile cracked his dour features.

"No, the bitch is on the rampage again. We did our work and left before she could lodge further complaint."

Y'len smiled at Gaelissa.

"I think you know how that goes."

"Did she ask you to help wash Fernath again?"

Gaelissa remarked. The junior Queen's rider, Juleinna, was always quite the spoiled brat. The problem was, the girl was now a young woman of nearly thirty Turns and she should have been taking care of her own Queen long ago. The more the Turns passed, the more Danellia's daughter got favored above others. Her long-ago indiscretion with a Lord Holder got swept under the rug and forgotten.

"No, but she was working to it."

Y'len looked over at S'phen.

They all traded smiles as the two blues took off and blinked Between just above the walls. They knew where to find their brown and green friends.

"At least there was finally news from Fort."

S'phen remarked.

"That being what?"

J'sen asked.

"Regenth has Clutched. Twenty-four eggs and a Queen. They say there is an odd egg in it too. One that came out after the Queen; it is of a gold-green hue. Nobody has ever seen the type of variation. It is smaller than the true gold, but larger than the rest."

Gaelissa's face turned to thought a moment.

"Has Danellia responded to the news?"

"Why do you think we left the Weyr to come here?"

Y'len added.

"She's furious! She's always hated Selina. Now the Fort Weyrwoman has such a unique distinction- along with Regenth- that Danellia can't see straight."

"Serves her right. I do feel , and always have, that Wesanth chose the wrong rider."

J'sen looked at Gaelissa.

"Especially having to put up with such attitude."

The group of four hushed for a moment. Then, as if by silent agreement, left the hot sands of the courtyard to explore the cooler areas of Igen. They wouldn't be disturbed in their travels. At least for a few hours anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**USHS **_**Jonas Salk**_**- **15 AU from Rukbat

It might be said, on some worlds, that computers in space thought constantly while their human makers slept away the time and distance. If that were true, then the _**Jonas Salk**_was hit by none other than a 'ball out of left field'. A 'ball' that had thrown the hospital ship, enroute back to Earth, far off course. The asteroid hadn't collapsed the ship, but it left its damage before the affected areas were auto-sealed and the ship was secure once more.

The _**Salk**_ carried the stabilized injured from a far-off war back to deserved recovery on Earth. Its whole crew and passengers were in cryo-sleep until they neared the Sol system. The computers would have brought the humans awake, but the programmed protocol was changed: the ship was dying. WOULD die before it ever reached the Sol system. It prompted the computers to run scans of the stars and systems around them to find a habitable world with which to land what was still viable among its human cargo.

When the ship had found such a Class 'M' world in the Rukbat system it began to home in. A renegade planet blitzed through the area but it was nothing that posed serious harm. The computers adjusted and the interface with the proposed planet was commenced. As the main viewscreen shown the sequence for reentry, the hull of the damaged ship began to glow red as it hit the atmosphere. The computers took a preliminary reading, judged the composition to be finally acceptable and the ship dropped towards the surface. Its outside became a flaming comet of flame and light.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The dragons at play in the huge lake looked up to the sky.

Their faceted eyes whirled a moment in puzzlement, then in shock. They saw the streaking line of flaming light come out of the heavens. They rose up, on their mighty wings, and flapped as quickly from its intended course as they could. Thought a moment about blinking Between, but stilled their apprehension. Every beat of their wings carried them to a safer distance. They would remain to see what it was that would come to land.

The water on their leathery hide dried instantly as the fireball came to the ground in a collision of shock and noise. It was well that they had flown. Had they not, four riders would have lost their dragons this day.

Fesurnth gave a bellow to whomever could hear and went to circle the wreckage. Flew about the plume of choking, acrid smoke as various fires licked through the burnt carcass. The vessel was huge and it was something Dragons had not seen before. They watched as jets of a type of foam began to spew forth and, wherever it touched, the fires went out. The craft seemed to have its own mind but died after a few moments and made no further action or noise.

The four dragons circled for only the briefest moments until they all discerned something about the wreckage. Something only dragons had a real sense about. A sense honed from ages of working and being partnered to humans: there were lifeforms aboard this charred hulk.

As if in silent agreement, the four rose high and blinked Between, back to Igen. They would fetch their riders.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

J'sen paused to sit on a stone dragonbed in the old Weyrleader's quarters.

The oddest feeling had come over him. His eyes looked out to the space beyond the huge balcony. Seldom had he felt so odd. He felt no danger with his Fesurnth, but something was wrong. Almost as soon as he rose to his feet, his brown landed on the ledge and looked in at him with swirling, red eyes.

_What's wrong?!_

J'sen asked, distressed at the look in his partner's eyes.

_You must come! A craft has crashed! We four saw it hit near the sea! _

J'sen turned back to the open door.

"Gaelissa!"

"I heard! Asanerth's told me! I'm ready!"

_Y'len and S'phen?_

J'sen asked Fesurnth.

_Danth and Soranth have told them. They are ready now._

J'sen mounted onto the warm hide of his Brown and felt the sun of Igen for only a second before his dragon and he flitted Between.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The dragons sat in a semi-circular ring as their riders walked up to the blackened hull. The smell of char still hung heavily in the air. It was no longer flaming but it was radiating heat. Heat even felt through the sturdy clothes worn by riders, even when they were not fighting Thread.

"I wish we had some Glows."

Gaelissa muttered. She could feel the worry in the dragons about her. A rider attached to one sometimes could read the feelings of all.

"I could wish there were some at Telgar who could be of help to us. Without recriminations about where we are and what we've found."

J'sen commented.

"Should we inform the Weyrleader?"

S'phen asked. He didn't like the idea, any more than he liked being chastised for simply doing his job and being a blue's rider.

"How could O'vis come without his 'shadow' following?"

Y'len muttered. The reference to Danellia made all of them cringe. The Weyrwoman was not fond of trying to help those who were not of the Weyrs. As whatever survivors were in this wreckage were, without doubt.

"O'vis must be told, nonetheless. It is part of our Code as riders."

Gaelissa looked at J'sen.

"Our allegiance is to our Weyr, and to PERN."

"Would you be the one to return to Telgar to do it?"

J'sen looked at Gaelissa. She'd always had the character, and strength, to even face down Danellia from time to time. J'sen was sure his greenrider friend could do the same now.

"It would be little different than from other times when I've spoken up."

She shot a mischievous grin at J'sen. Then her gaze turned back to the wreck.

"The bronzes might be able to help right the wreckage so we can find a way inside."

"Go, then. With speed. Make sure glows are brought back. Maybe get word to Masterhealer Toskin. We'll need some of his Hall to assist."

"I'll be back before you even knew we'd gone Between!"

Gaelissa mounted Asanerth and the green flew into the air, light as a leaf, and was gone.

"So the Shards will begin to rain down..."

S'phen remarked and felt J'sen's hand on his shoulder.

The three men began to walk the entire way about the wreckage, looking for an opening to get inside. Its sheer size would not make it something to be done in mere minutes. It would be more like an hour.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**High Reaches Weyr**

MasterHealer Toskin walked among the junior Healers as they tended to the injured Weyrlings and some of the injured dragonets. It wasn't the first time that scuffles had broken out between such kids. However, it was something that made the High Reaches Weyrlingmaster livid, even if the opportunity for junior Healers to get some practical experience with wounds was of benefit.

At nearly sixty Turns and gifted with a full head of white hair, Toskin was a venerable sage of his craft. He had learned from many, excellent Healers and his gift for medicine was seldom contested. Of course, there was this new generation to train. He had little doubt they would fulfill their task when Thread came through the skies once more.

"A bit more numbweed on that, Robard. Then bind it well."

Toskin looked at the twelve year-old patient, who tried to not squirm on his pallet while his brown watched and fretted.

The sound of the drums made Toskin stand up. He knew well how to read them. A master knew when they might summon one to duty. In this case, he was correct.

Crash near Igen...Healers needed.....Survivors......signed O'vis, Weyrleader.

Crash? A crash of what?

Toskin looked up and saw a few of his juniors also read the drums. Telgar's surgeon could be summoned, but would he be allowed to leave his Weyr and patients? Toskin knew the many duties of a Weyr's Healer. Besides, he was curious about what exactly had crashed into the ground near Igen. Saw many pairs of eyes turn to him, eager. Even some of the injured weyrlings looked about at their comrades. He met the eyes of Weyrlingmaster G'don.

"Will you leave?"

"If only I knew exactly what sort of disaster it was, but yes. I will leave two Healers here to finish up."

Toskin looked at them. He knew there were those who preferred to not deal with the unknown.

"Jenna, Hermes, you two will care for the rest. Return to Healer Hall when you have finished. Await further orders there."

The rest of the Healers looked at Toskin expectantly. The excitement was palpable. There might only be three, but they were well on their way to becoming excellent Journeymen in their craft. The eldest of them, Griffun, would make an excellent surgeon one day.

"The rest of you, come with me."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

O'vis could hardly believe his eyes when Brioth brought him out of Between and saw Gaelissa point down. The greenrider had never been wrong before. She surely was not wrong now.

It was like a toy that had been smashed to the ground and set on fire. Suffice to say, it was huge. Even from the height they were at. Other Telgar brown and bronze riders could do little but gawk at the wreckage in the sands. The dots of riders on the ground walking and looking. The forms of dragons craning their heads, as if in silent conversation with each other as, no doubt, they were.

He felt Brioth slow and they landed near two other Telgar browns. Saw junior Weyrleader, P'fin run up to him.

"They have found a way inside!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

J'sen held the net with the glow above the smashed capsules that were human-sized. Could smell the faint, sickening scent of roast flesh. The glow was not bright enough to make him see the gore on the canted-up floor, but there were dead corpses here. The interior dripped with moisture. Some even went into his hair and trickled down, like tears, into the collar of his flight leather jacket. It was best to leave the protective clothing on. The pointed shards of metal were all over: like a fish skeleton curled in on itself.

He looked ahead to see more capsules. They also had cracked lids, but seemed lesser damaged. Still, he could smell blood throughout. The glows had shown too-many mangled corpses to peer long on. The sick, iron smell was all around.

"J'sen?!"

J'sen knew the voice of Weyrleader O'vis very well.

"Up here! There are more...Some look to be intact! Watch your footing!"

He shined a glow into a capsule and the bashed-in face greeted him. He jumped back and regained his breath. It was like seeing death's face. It was not pleasant by any stretch.

"By Faranth, how many?"

"I have counted forty, so far. Not a one with a living person inside. There was one when we first got in, but he died before we could get him out. They all are human, but from where?"

J'sen said. The memory of the struggling man, vomiting blood was not something he'd wished to recall. Unfortunately, he did so now.

O'vis shined his light down the narrow walkway. A quick glance told him that there were maybe only twenty more bays further. His voice was quiet. He'd been ready to baste J'sen up one side and down the other. Now, he wasn't wanting to do that at all.

"Toskin is coming, with junior healers. I hope there are some lives that can be saved here."

They both stopped cold when the lighting began to flicker and sent what they saw into a strobe effect. Unknown to them, what worked of the ship's computers was attempting to light the area so rescuers could have an easier time. Several of the bays began to try and come alive, but only succeeded in shorting and sparking all about the wet place.

"Touch no metal! It is akin to lightning!"

O'vis said loudly. There were two bronzeriders who searched the other end of the vessel's interior.

The flashing and sparking died abruptly. The whole interior was dark again.

J'sen regained his breathing and tapped O'vis on the shoulder.

"Sir, look at that one!"

They both held up their glows to a capsule. A form was flopping inside, struggling, seemingly trying to get out. Needed air!

Both men ran up to it and tried to pry open the lid. O'vis put his glow down and tried to find a button or latch.

"We need prying bars up here! Now!"

J'sen shouted, didn't see three men come inside and make way towards them.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was like swimming underwater and, absurdly, taking breaths when you knew you had no gills- but lungs. It was contrary to rational thought. There was no air to speak of, not here.

For a trained soldier, used to being in spacesuits, it was the worst feeling you could have.

Captain Angela Marcus could feel the restraints on her wrists and ankles hold her down. Her mouth tried to open to breathe but there was no air to be had. She could hear voices outside, but they didn't seem close. Could hear metallic scrapings- a futile effort. Then she heard sounds of somebody trying to smash the lid above her. Her eyes were taped shut, so she couldn't see. The shock of coming out of cryo-sleep was that opening the eyes too-soon was infinitely painful to those waking-up. She felt like going back to sleep and her movements slowed. The smashing on the lid only grew faster. She could hear the plexi-steel begin to crack. The sound of smashing seemed to grow dull, then got louder.

_Do not fear. We will get you out of there. _

The male voice that came into her mind was a rich baritone. It was the oddest thing she had ever heard. Like somebody was in the pod with her, yet was not. Couldn't be. She could hear...no, **feel **other presences about her. They were comforting for being there. Angela tried to make sense of it as the final crash came down on the lid...and knocked her soundly on the forehead. Encountered a split-second of pain. She went out.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shards!"

K'hun said, throwing his bar to the ground. The lid was cracked open and the person inside had air. He reached in to touch the still-warm forehead of the human woman he'd just knocked out with his pry-bar. It was fortunate that the lid was as sturdy as it was. He'd been putting all his might into cracking the lid.

He saw J'sen trying to remove the manacles, after feeling the woman's throat vein. There was still a pulse to it.

O'vis had found how to get the foot restraints off. The woman wasn't wearing much more than a tunic and some short-cut leggings. She was not a dainty build. Even in the light of the glows, he saw the scars of what skin was exposed. Tags of metal on a chain, flopped down her side from around her neck. They were indented with writing that would be better seen under full light.

He reached up to still K'hun's hand before it removed the tape strips from the woman's eyes.

"No, not until we are out of here!"

J'sen finally got the shackles off and the woman was carried out by two bronzeriders from what would have been her tomb, were she not rescued.

Toskin looked up and saw the riders come out with a body.

He'd expected, in a way, to not see a living body. When he saw it was and that it was human, he had the woman taken into the shade of one of the bronzes and laid upon the sand. The two bronzeriders went back inside the wreck to see if more could be found. It left Toskin to dictate to one of his juniors for the person's medical chart.

"Adult female..perhaps thirty Turns..fair skin...blonde hair, short...medium build...perhaps one hundred fifty pounds weight..."

Toskin looked at the metal tags and saw the block letters on it. Almost caught his breath when he could read it.

"Marcus, Angela."

The junior looked up.

"Her name?"

"I would guess it so. Severe concussion sustained to forehead. No other visible, current wounding. Some previous wounds appear to be treated and bandaged."

Toskin's fingers touched the fleshlike coverings that seemed like skin, yet were not.

_Odd way to cover a wound_, he thought.

He was so busy in his work that he hadn't noted the appearance of Wesanth and Weyrwoman Danellia of Telgar land in the sands nearby. He did note the stirred-up sand from the wingwind of the giant gold. He instinctively bent over his patient to keep the sand from landing on her.

Danellia stripped off her helmet, after dismounting and looked at the huge wreck. Could see the riders that went in and out of it. She had seen Brioth on the sands, but little knew of anyplace O'vis would rather be than inside this wreck. Wesanth turned her swirling eyes to Toskin and the person on the ground he tended to. The great gold seemed to hear something unknown to her rider. There was talk between dragons. The gold peered more intently at them, before looking away to the other dragons about. It was something the golden queen would have not thought possible. The Queen of Telgar spoke not a word to her rider. Some dragontalk was not for others to know. Some things must be allowed to run its course.

The Weyrwoman finally caught sight of Toskin and strode up. She looked down on the man and his patient imperiously. Her voice was harsh.

"Is **that** the only survivor so far?"

"Yes."

"And all this fuss?! This has brought nearly the entire Weyr here!"

Toskin bit his tongue to keep from lashing out. So, not even a crashed ship from the stars could please the Telgar Weyrwoman. If that couldn't, what else ever could?

"To save even one life, is it not worth it?"

Danellia snorted, and walked the sands to the place where male riders were going in and out.

The junior healer with Toskin gave the retreating form of the Telgar Weyrwoman a poisonous look before looking back to his chart. The MasterHealer continued with the summation. Before they both left, there would be only four more survivors found that day.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was dimly aware of being moved. A sensation of flight and brief, extreme cold. Then the sense of coming back down and being moved some more. Only then did she feel the tape removed from her eyes. She was so tired that she didn't have strength to open them. She choked down some incredibly bitter liquid and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Contrary to the war-torn worlds and life she'd come from, Angela felt no need for her defenses to be brought to the fore. At least, not yet. Even now, as she clawed her way back to consciousness and her bleary sight opened to a blur of flickering fire and furs tickling her chin. The air about her face was cold, but she was warm. As her ears unstopped ever more, she could hear the crackling of the flames. There was no real noise. She did hear the occasional rustle of clothing and pad of footsteps. Felt fingers lift her wrist, then heard the scratch of...a quill on paper?

Angela tried desperately to open her eyes to see. Tried to lift her head, but the throbbing headache- of which before she hadn't been aware- reasserted itself. She let her head fall back onto the pillow. Heard an older, male voice speak.

"More fellis for her. She needs to be kept asleep for now."

"She's already had so much, Master."

Angela heard nothing more for a few moments. With a fierce effort, she opened her eyes and blinked to clear her sight. It was like she was in an old castle on earth; all the walls were of stone.

She saw glowing balls of light on the walls as she managed to get up onto her elbows.

When she turned to the young man bringing a goblet she nearly made him drop it by nearly being able to sit up in bed. She felt wobbly, though.

"If you'd let me stay awake a little, I'd like to know where I am. What system, what planet?"

MasterHealer Toskin looked at his orderly and let the writing pad go down at his side. He looked back to her and walked up to her bed.

"Your ship crashed. This planet is called PERN. You are in the hospital ward of Fort Hold."

"What system?"

"System?"

"Star system. Where in the galaxy is this PERN?"

"She speaks like one of the Ancients."

A younger, male voice spoke.

Angela turned her gaze and saw a young, maybe twenty-something man. Black hair, fair skin, seemed puzzled.

"Ancients?"

"You are human as we are. Our ancestors settled this planet many, many Turns ago."

"Turns?"

Angela digested the term and reasoned that it must be a measure of time.

"Years or centuries?"

"A standard Turn is 366 days in length. A day is measured as being 26 hours."

Another male voice spoke. Came closer.

"Good Evening, MasterHarper. We hadn't expected that you would come here, so late."

Toskin nodded congenially to his fellow Master, Kennely. He should have known that the man's curiosity would get the better of him. He was one person who couldn't be turned away. Not like the others who'd tried to see these 'outsiders'. Maybe the term should be changed to 'outworlders'.

"She has just awoken."

"So I see."

Kennely came up to Angela's bed and sat towards the foot of it.

"I heard you asking about where you are. Can we ask where you are from?"

"Captain Angela Marcus, United Star Alliance Army. 106th Battalion, 93rd Infantry. My 'home base' is what you might recall as Mars. I was born on Earth, in 2267 C.E."

Angela blinked the blurriness out of her eyes and saw the lined face and steady, brown eyes.

"Who are you?"

"I am, what you might call, a 'recorder' of stories."

"Storyteller? Or a type of historian?"

"A bit of both. You were born on Terra?"

"Yes."

Angela swallowed dryly. She felt a wave of dizziness come over her.

Toskin frowned.

"I think that is quite enough."

"Just one more question. Please."

Kennely looked at Toskin, then back to Angela.

"Why were you on that ship?"

"We were being sent back for medical rehabilitation. We were injured in the war."

"War?"

Kennely heard the term before. It was not one common at all to PERN, or its history. Except maybe for the original settlers, far back in the earliest days of PERN's colonization.

"The Omni Draconis Wars. We were fighting the 'Spiders'. I was badly injured leading my soldiers into one of their strongholds."

"That is quite enough. Master Kennely, anything further will have to wait until much later."

Toskin growled, looking at the orderly to come forward with the goblet.

"Captain, you need to drink this down to sleep. You need to heal. Not be up and about. Your injuries are still bad."

"How did the ship crash? What happened?"

"We will let you know later."

Kennely reached out and touched her shoulder. None of them knew why. Reports said that the charred hulk bore little trace of what made it crash.

"Listen to the Healer, drink the solution. You will feel better later for having done so."

"I need to contact my comm.."

Angela started, before she fell back onto the pillow, out cold.

The three looked at her. It seemed that the concentration of fellis already in her had its residual effect take hold again. Toskin seemed quite relieved by it.

Kennely bit his lip.

"I don't know that there will be many Lord Holders who will like this. Many still recall the trouble the Oldtimers caused, ages ago. That she's a _soldier.. _Lord Paulonia will little care for that word being used about him."

They both knew of the sour blood between Benden's Weyrleader and the Lord Holder of Tillek. Knew it hearkened to a time when arms were taken up, words were spoken and battle was nearly commenced between a Weyr and a Hold. It might have been the distant past, but it was still present to a few on PERN.

"Are there other survivors?"

"Only two, besides her. We had two die earlier. They both went into cardiac shock. We couldn't stop it fast enough. They were already very injured before the crash worsened things. The two, apart from her, that are alive have not woken yet."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Telgar Weyr**

Gaelissa found J'sen in the dining hall.

It was still early in the day and for J'sen to be nursing a cup of klah was no shock. She knew that the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman had questioned them closely yesterday. S'phen and Y'len came away with quiet, but very foul moods. No doubt they were all chastised for going so far from Telgar. No matter what was found in the crash. Gaelissa could only wonder at why the Weyr's leaders felt so unduly threatened by the discovery of the crashed starship. There wasn't a human on all of PERN who hadn't originated from descendants born on Earth.

However, looking a J'sen, Gaelissa knew other things were bothering him.

"Good morning."

"Are you sure its wise to be speaking with me?"

"The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman are still asleep. Asanerth keeps me updated."

Gaelissa smiled, before going to get her own mug of klah. The chill of autumn permeated even up to the confines of the Weyr's kitchens. She returned with her mug and J'sen looked up at her.

"We can't visit Igen anymore."

"I heard that as well. Sheer stupidity. There is no danger of going there. The only danger is that our esteemed Weyrwoman will lose her control over everything- including how people live their lives. Her _control _oversteps her proper bounds of authority."

J'sen muttered, took another long sip of klah.

"I've had thoughts of leaving Telgar."

"What other Weyrs would take you? Without Thread, dragonriders are almost seen as surplus in the time of Interval."

"I don't know. All I do know is that I will not be treated like a weyrling without a brain. Nor be dictated to as to what I should, or should not, be doing when Thread is not endangering all."

Gaelissa stayed silent.

For a dragonrider to consider leaving the safety and security of a Weyr was a serious step. One that seemed almost on par with desertion. Of course, few would ever kill a dragonrider- or dragon- for leaving a Weyr. However, the stigma was formidable and lasted until death. The 'sign' could never be erased. Finally, she did speak.

"Would you reinhabit Igen?"

"I do not know what I would do, Gael. I'm not happy. Haven't been for a while. I have not been happy since Weyrwoman Uma and her Osianth died. At least, under her, were all riders happy...and able to have a voice and a choice."

J'sen could have wished that he had the short memories of dragons. They couldn't recall such things. In that, they were the fortunate ones.

Gaelissa frowned.

Uma had been dead for Turns. She knew J'sen had never been regarded as the front-rank of even brownriders. He never sought the Weyrleader's favor, nor did he fail to give rein to his view. He was respectful, but was not truly respected. He was, among dragonriders here, beginning to be something of an outsider. She wondered what would happen if they left. Wondered if anything could change.

"When would you leave?"

"When I do, it will be too late to follow. Unless I would want to be accompanied."

J'sen looked at her. The invitation was obvious.

"If you wish to, think on it."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sgt. Chris Collins opened his eyes to a place he would have never recognized.

Ever steeped in weapons and technology, he couldn't really look at where he was now and make sense of it. He should have awoken in a rear-area hospital, if not back on Earth. His broken leg, shattered pelvis and internal injuries were enough to insure that he would never see the inside of a troop transport again.

Now he was in a bed in a place that looked more like a fairy-tale castle than a hyper-modern, medical facility. He blinked his dark brown eyes at the dawning sky out of narrow window. There was a greenish tinge to it. Looked about at the simple fabrics and furniture that he could see from his prone position. Looked to either side of him: saw a blank bed to his left and a partition-curtain to his right. He wasn't wanted to see who was in the bed next to him.

A slight smirk crossed features one woman had once described as 'exotic'. He'd guessed it was her way of saying that he was handsome. Even with semi-yellow hued skin, Collins was far more intense than anything innocent and nice. All the ladies who'd gotten his attentions knew that before they knew much else about him. Perhaps it was his half-Vietnamese blood that made him what he was.

He raised a hand to his short, wavy black hair and felt the crust of an old wound on his scalp. It was new. Had there been a problem with cryo-sleep? He certainly hadn't recalled any problems.

Collins heard footsteps and looked in the direction of them.

An older man, almost grandfatherly, made his way from the far end of the ward. Certainly wasn't dressed like a doctor. Nor was he possessed of the swagger of a medical professional. In fact, the mien of the man was so unlike Collins' prior experience that the man could have subbed for a country quack, not a physician.

"You're up. That is good to see."

The man spoke.

"How are you feeling?"

"Where am I?"

"Well, not on your ship, at least. It crashed. We found you and some of your shipmates. You were brought here."

"How many?"

"Only you and two others, I'm afraid. The rest died in the crash."

"What world is this? It is not Earth."

Collins saw the man tighten the line of his lips before speaking. Almost as if he'd answered such a question before..and had not liked the response.

"You are on PERN. A planet in the Rukbat system."

Toskin looked at the man. Kennely had told him what the Ancients would have known as a common fact. Nobody of PERN would have known it now. The last time such old information had come to light was back during the Sixth Pass Plague.

"Rukbat? How in hell? The course was never supposed to even come near the Sagittarian Sector. The ship was on-course for Earth."

"I can't answer that. Just know that you are safe, and are healing well."

Toskin said, trying had to be congenial. In the back of his mind he knew the meeting of Weyrleaders and Lord Holders would answer the question of what to do with these 'outworlders'.

There was already talk that made Toskin's skin crawl: banishment to the Southern Continent and some whispers that death might be a viable solution. Nothing would be settled until the meeting of all decided the fate of three.

Collins looked up at the vaulted, stone ceiling. He was bewildered. Rukbat? It was so off-course that this backwater fool had no idea how hard it would be to get back home. It also made the prospects of getting back to Earth even more remote. Carlita and Adam would be without their father and his wife, Adelia, would be growing old without a husband to be with her. War had made him value such ties even more. He'd wanted so badly to see them.

Now, there was nothing.

They heard a moan come from a distant part of the ward. A part Collins could not see and to which Toskin looked towards for a moment.

"Are you alright otherwise? Are you in pain?"

"No. I'm fine. For now."

Collins looked away. Wanting to be with his thoughts and having to deal with the new reality he found himself in. He didn't even see the man walk away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fort Weyr-**

Selina went to her slumbering Regenth and could do little more than smile at the sleepy, contented queen. It hadn't been so long since B'ran's 'Didoth' had won her beauty in a Flight that was dazzling for its sheer beauty. The other bronzes- and even a few browns- were no match for the pair. It was almost as if Regenth knew her mate from the start. Still, she'd made the huge bronze work to have her.

Now the Clutch was the talk of all the Holds and Weyrs. Candidates were already being gathered from far and wide. With another Pass looming, it was important to get all of them somewhat trained with their weyrling dragons before the First Descent struck fear in all life on PERN.

Selina walked across the warm sands. There was no heat to permeate the tanned hide of her slippers, not yet. The sun had not yet truly come up to flood the Hatching Sands of the Weyr.

She stopped and eyed the odd green-gold 'lesser' egg and wondered at the kind of dragonet inside. One still growing and alive. So much talk about it. There were few who hadn't remarked on it. Many given to say that it was not what should have been.

Yet here it was and it was, like the true Queen's egg, where it was supposed to be.

_You are awake early today._

Regenth said, opening a sleepy, whirling eye at her rider. Her dearest lifepartner.

_I had a hard time asleep._

Selina approached only a little closer to the odd egg and stopped. It seemed that she could almost see the small dragonet in it. The surface, though hardening, seemed to have a shimmer all of its own.

_I know. Your fits and turns kept me awake._

Selina tore her gaze from the odd egg and walked to her Queen. Scratched the eye ridges, clearing off dust that had landed on them.

_I'm sorry to worry you. You need your skin oiled. You're dry._

_I will be fine, for now._

Regenth looked at her Clutch. The odd egg also caught her eye.

_There will be a rider for it. You needn't fret about her._

_It's a 'her'?_

_She is already talking to me._

Regenth said nothing more and let her muzzle rest on her golden foreleg again. Much like a sleepy feline.

_I am hungry._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

The Woman Who Fell to PERN

A.K.A. 'Dragonsoldier'- Part 2

**Disclaimer:** Making money, fame or anything else off of this? Are you serious?

I don't own [or make any type of profit from] any of the rights to Anne McCaffrey's world. This work is my tribute to the entrancing world she has created through the years. All characters within this story are of my own creation. Any resemblance to any of her characters is completely unintentional. If any likenesses are discovered, her authorized agent should email the author and necessary changes will be made to protect Ms. McCaffrey's rights to her creative property.

**Author's Note:**

The unknown continent on the other side of PERN is referred to as such:

"_..The last, very small, barren continent is isolated on the other side of the world in the middle of an ocean five thousand miles wide. The planet's diameter is approximately sixty-five hundred miles." _[pg. 2-3]

This excerpt was taken from '**The Dragonlover's Guide to PERN**' by Jody Lynn Nye and Anne McCaffrey.

I make mention of this to diffuse any debate about whether or not such a continent actually exists on PERN. If the experts say it is so, then it is so.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Part 2- Acclimation and Alienation**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Fort Hold-**

It had been a groggy, five days since she awoke to find herself on PERN.

Angela hadn't much felt like eating what was offered to her. The thought of porridge generally made her queasy. It hearkened too much to the insides of the 'Spiders' her men and her had been at war with for the past four years. The cereal's runny, lumpy, white texture made her almost want to vomit. It also made Doctor Toskin worry about whether or not she was getting enough nourishment. Especially when it seemed she would rather do without food entirely. Not that he would have known about the residual effect of years of MetLow dosing.

MetLow was an abbreviation for 'Metabolism Lowering'. The scientific name was long since forgotten by those who were the primary patients. It was a drug rarely seen outside of military circles.

The military had decided, long ago, that having to constantly ship food to the far quadrants of space took too much time and was far too expensive. Chemists came across a formula to lower the human metabolism so that only a small amount of food was required for daily, normal functioning. With some tweaks made for arduous, military life- MetLow became the staple 'ration' for nearly anybody in the military. You didn't eat much [nor have to] and you kept a trim figure from all the exercising you did anyway. With adjustments, even animals could be acclimated to the drug.

The biggest drawback was that once you were off the regular dosing, you ran the risk of becoming malnourished until the body righted itself- sans MetLow- and you began to eat and process food normally again.

Angela sat on her pallet and looked about at the small room she'd been transferred to four days ago. She could tell that something had occurred. Something that made Toskin a bit irritable. Not to her, personally, or the two others. It was something that had gone on. Something that had to do with the three of them. Something none of them were privy to.

She raised a hand and rubbed her forehead. The huge bruise still ached a little to the touch. She wished she could be allowed to take a bath. She felt filthy. In the field, you were expected to be damn dirty. Here, she wanted to be clean. There wasn't much else to really do anyway.

She got up and walked to the shuttered and barred window in her room. Whatever was outside of it, they didn't want her to see. She'd heard the odd roaring of a creature a few days ago. When she asked what it had been, she had been ignored like nobody heard it.

Even now, putting her eyes up to the crack, she couldn't see much but a slit of ground and the occasional, passing human far below. These people all dressed in clothing that could have come out of an ancient age. There was no modern clothing to be had among any of the people of PERN. They seemed to have discarded modern ways as thoroughly as they forgot their roots from Earth.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Telgar Weyr-**

J'sen strode out to where Fesurnth waited with a quickness.

Weyrwoman Danellia was seriously pushing her luck with barking on him as if he were little more than a scullery maid. O'vis had departed for yet another errand and the Weyrwoman was left to rule over the Weyr that had grown none too admiringly of the way she ran things. She had commanded and strutted enough. He wanted nothing more of it. It wasn't a matter of duties being neglected for he'd done them. It was the matter that he was- by his low rank- subject tot he power-trips of lesser minds than his.

The meeting of Weyrs and Holds- two days ago- about the three 'survivors' of the crash had brought out a vein of thought that J'sen would have never thought possible. The most experienced, learned people on all of PERN seemed to wish these three people- if not dead- then exiled to a remote corner of the planet. The Southern Continent was agreed on as the most likely choice. It didn't matter that these 'orphans' knew nothing of the ravages of Thread, knew nothing about the flora and fauna of PERN; all that was known was that they should be left to their own ways and NOT be part of Weyr, Hold, or even among the Holdless on the Northern Continent. They were to be discarded and forgotten about and, it was hoped, their warlike ways would never be discovered. Even talk of occasionally checking in on them was dismissed. The 'dangers' of the Southern Continent were too much to permit even dragons and riders from going a checking on them. No, they were to be left and totally forgotten afterward.

It was a harshness of judgment that J'sen thought he would never see leveled. These three were being treated on par with heinous criminals and had done nothing to deserve it.

As the primary discoverer of the survivors, J'sen was allowed to listen to PERN's leaders discuss the matter, but his low rank precluded him from either speaking or to make suggestions about what was to be done with them. He could do nothing but listen- and fume- at the near-death sentence being imposed upon three whose only crime was to have crashed on PERN. Not that the three would have been able to stop that. They were unable to stop the ship from doing that. They had been unconscious the entire time.

Now, all J'sen could do was go through the motions of being a Telgar brownrider and stay as far from his leaders as he could. Not that Weyrwoman Danellia gave a shit about the need for distance; she wasn't happy unless she was bitching and in your face with it.

Fesurnth rose up and stretched out a foreleg for his rider to climb aboard. The brown was too aware of his rider's mood. Dragons don't hate their fellow dragons. They do, however, understand the biases of human towards human. When the bias was against a human that a dragon liked, or loved [like a dragon for their rider] the dragon grew greatly annoyed.

The brown felt his rider settle on the proper ridge and click into the fighting straps. Fesurnth had eaten well the other day. J'sen had told him of the flight they would make. It would be long and it would be hard. They would be exceedingly far from land in doing so. They would both seek what nobody on PERN had really bothered to discover, or explore. A place that only one, very old scroll had even alluded to: a very small continent on the opposite side of the planet. A continent not even named or explored. Nobody even knew if it really existed.

J'sen was of a mind to search for this 'lost' continent. If it could support life, it might be a good home for the three. They would be free of any interference from the rest. He knew well that those who posed a threat to them here could, one day, hunt down and kill the trio. Such incidents had happened with the Oldtimers. Grudges were not always able to be resolved. The skins never recorded such things formally, but verbal tales were known [and heard] from time to time.

On a Continent, on the other side of PERN, there would be peace. There was also the fact that it was in the middle of five thousand miles of ocean.

J'sen knew it would be a huge risk. Browns were never the strength or endurance of bronzes. It was a big reason why most browns could never compete in a Mating Flight- though many gamely tried. Browns were able Threadfighters, but they were what they were. It could well be said that their heart was every bit as great as any bronze. Fesurnth had complete confidence in his rider. He was ready to venture to the other side of the world to assist in finding this place.

"J'sen! Where are you going?"

Gaelissa had but barely spied him out of a window before she had gotten to his room and ledge.

She was out-of-breath from having mounted so many stairs. Browns took much more space than her small Asanerth.

J'sen looked down at her.

"Where you cannot follow."

His cryptic words made Gaelissa pale. She started to speak, but Fesurnth lifted off with a mighty rush. They went Between just shy of the Fire Heights. A watchdragon stifled a farewell bugle. There wasn't even time to acknowledge its farewell.

Gaelissa was left bewildered and alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The place had been hewn out of solid rock.

As Angela walked about her cool room, she wondered at what could have impelled such a need. Normally, such things were not done. There were structures easier to put up and that took far less effort to make than where she now was. Without proper tools, going into rock as this was almost too labor-intensive to contemplate. Her fingers could still feel the chisel marks. Some places did look machine-carved, but those were the larger rooms- like the infirmary she'd been in.

She didn't know if any others aboard the ship survived.

When they'd lifted off, all she could recall were the moans of discomfort. Each body in each bed was immersed in their own world. She doubted any of them was in condition to talk to the person in the next bed. Anybody who was onboard the _**Salk**_ was far from a fit shape for conversation.

Angela did recall how she'd landed aboard a hospital ship.

It was almost as futile as the Battle of Gallipoli, centuries ago. She had been ordered to lead an assault on a Spider 'Nest'. The order was not, in itself, that unusual. She'd led many such assaults elsewhere. What was the difference was in attacking a known 'Nest'. The Spiders were ferociously protective of their young. The thought had been that if a force could wipe a Nest, then the Spiders might reconsider how they used humans who had been captured.

It was well-known that Spider's- like their earthly cousins- spun webs and kept captured prey immobile. What was different was that when their young hatched, those same young sucked the fluids out of the captured 'prey'. Adults simply ate what they killed, if they were hungry.

They had wiped the Nest and had been ready to leave when a Spider assault came down on them like a Force Five hurricane. The retrieval ships were enroute, but it still left them fighting simply to make their way out of the destroyed 'Nest' and back into the open. The ships would drop ordnance, but it was up to them to remain alive until then. That was far from easy.

Spider armor being what it was, you had no chance of crippling or killing them from above. You had to strike at their underside; even when they were armored. It was useless to try and blow a leg or two off. Spiders were agile enough to get down to two and still be able to move. Their powers of regeneration meant that you saw a new 'leg bud' within an hour- if you seriously wanted a pissed-off Spider surviving that length of time.

Her men and herself fought off the Spiders for as long as they could. The Spiders were not stupid and their weapons found many hits. The bolt in her gut should have killed her. Instead, it knocked her to the ground [due to her body armor] and the Spider had advanced to pin her down for death before laser bolts cut the alien and burned a line from ribs to the opposite shoulder. The effect of having a three hundred pound Spider atop your limbs meant that those limbs were broken.

She thought she was to die on that shithole world; the retrieval ships changed that outlook. The medics took her aboard, stabilized her, then sent her over to the _**Salk**_. Her days of leading strike forces were over; at least for the time-being and until things went worse.

Angela didn't know how things were now. These people had colonized and the greater society forgot completely about them. Alright, maybe not very completely. No doubt, there were some files on a computer hidden way back in some place back on Terra that spoke of this planet that orbited Rukbat. Maybe there was an account. It still would not help her in the absolute slightest now.

Angela was jolted from her thoughts by the oddest sound she could recall; it sounded like a bugle, but it did not come from a musical instrument. It had an organic quality that she could not place.

Her heart began to race until she stilled it. There must be creatures here that the humans had come to know. Perhaps even friendly, all things considered. It would be amazing to her if they were. The only lifeforms she'd ever seen- aside from Terran- were hell-bent on killing you, not making buddies with you.

Her ears picked up another bugle, more distant, as if going away. She would have wished for windows so she could see light and know there was something outside of her room. For now, she walked back to her cot and sat down. Would give herself a few minutes before attempting to get in some sit-ups and push-ups to start rebuilding her strength.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When J'sen and Fesurnth broke out of the black of Between, they were above a vast ocean by many thousands of feet. As no cold was like the cold of that otherworldly place they'd come from, the cold of altitude was warm by comparison.

He'd seen the Ancients' maps. Heard the references to the tiny island on the other side of PERN. It had never been accurately charted on any current skin that he could recall. Nobody cared to remember a lone, deserted place.

So the Old One had spoken.

J'sen knew better than to believe everything told to him. He had learned to question, to ask of things some really didn't wish to speak of. His parents never taught him to be shy. The only way he'd become a Dragonrider was because he had the courage to step on the Sands with the rest. He refused to be cowed by those larger or older than he. The children of his youth were fond of bullying; especially on one who really didn't seem to have many-if any-friends.

J'sen's eyes squinted at the deep blue ripple of PERN's mighty ocean. Clouds scudded beneath them. He could smell the moisture of the great engine that drove all weather on PERN. It was what caused the winds, rains to fall, and the effects of the seasons. It could even drive and kill any Thread that fell. To ride high, you had to respect what had always been- even before dragons and riders.

He could feel Fesurnth's powerful wings, beat by beat.

_Are you tired, or hungry?_

_No._

The brown responded. Fesurnth's strength was still strong and willing.

_You need to let me know if you tire and we do not find the island. I will need to know before you exhaust yourself. We will have to fly Between to get home, as you know._

J'sen hated to remind his lifelong partner. Certainly no dragon could ever be called stupid or unknowing of things. There was always another plan for the main one intended. It had always been the way of those who rode and flew.

The brown and rider continued over trackless ocean. The ripples looking like the pattern of a huge, watery dragon beneath them. J'sen hadn't noted it, but a school of finfish had sighted and was following them.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Captain Marcus had nearly enough of the surroundings.

There was no chance to leave her quarters and she was trying hard to not get angry with those who kept her. She could view things through the shutters of her room's window; not much to be seen save for rock faces and a seemingly sandy bottom. The thought of it being a volcanic crater sprang to her mind more than once.

Why on Earth would they live like this? Hewing chambers out of solid stone? The labor involved was nearly insane without modern equipment. Angela hadn't seen much, but she knew there was precious little of that left in what she'd seen. At least they didn't drug her like before.

She had looked over the stout door of her room earlier.

The lock was very primitive, compared to the digital DNA-scan bolts that only retracted or locked when it sensed your skin chemistry on it. PERN certainly had none of those. Even the ancient 'Retina Scanners' were not seen here.

She could work her way out. Problem was, they left her with precious little to use to trick the tumbler lock into opening. There was no metal long and thin enough to accomplish the task.

The only utensils they had left her to eat with were spoons made of wood. Finely-carved, but scarcely what was needed. Even the fittings were not of metal, but of wood.

Angela paced her room, did some push-ups and sit-ups, and some stretching. Anything to relieve her boredom. She should have guessed that she would be held captive on this world. There were not many off-world colonies that cared to have soldiers paying them visits and taking away potential recruits from among their young men and women. 'PERN' it seemed had not grown to hate them, yet. The time would soon arrive, though. If those at Headquarters gave a damn enough about an entire medical transport filled with soldiers who could be treated and sent back to fight.

Or would they?

She heard a rumble of thunder outside and went up to the crack in the shutter. Dark clouds had begun to lace the odd-hued sky. A flash of lighting seemed to illuminate the rock face. In a few minutes the rain-scented air began to suck the warmth from her tightly-closed room. It also sucked out any hope of being able to leave. At least for the present.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

J'sen could feel fatigue beginning to tax his brown.

The expanse of sea had grown endless, until the clouds began to form and bubble up. Wispy at first, they thickened and darkened considerably. Formed an ominous, brooding mass. What sea could be glimpsed below was starting to roil with whitecaps of disturbance.

Every wingbeat of his brown was -or seemed- beating slower. The image on the Ancients' scroll clung in his mind. It was all they had to go on. It was near-suicide. Almost as much as going Between without thought.

Fesurnth kept on- the very heavy meal eaten pre-flight had been long since burned away. Fatigue and hunger sapped both of them nearly dry.

"A small, barren island. A small, barren island. A sma..."

J'sen's bleary eyes shot open. He felt Fesurnth descend lower, towards the rolling seas.

_Fesurnth!_

_There is an island. It is not barren._

The brown said, his tone seemed neutral and hopeful at the same time.

J'sen waited, until they had dropped through the rainy clouds. Almost, as if a dream, a jagged mound of green greeted their sight directly ahead. A storm might soon be upon them, but J'sen knew they had found a place to land. The air was moist and the impending storm was sending waves to pound the fine sand of the beaches. He nearly shouted for joy.

'A small, barren island?'

The words almost made him want to laugh. How many Turns since Landing? Certainly there had been changes to this formerly-barren rock. Nor was the island terribly small. It was not a 'fire lizard egg in a Weyr' to him. J'sen patted Fesurnth's warm hide.

"Take us down, brave one!"

The brown complied, gliding over the pounding surf and searched for a place to finally come to a rest. The tall, tropical trees bowed in the gusts.

"Well, no wherry stew, warm bed, and blissful sleep. We must find a shelter to take refuge in."

J'sen remarked. Fesurnth looked at him with peaceful, swirling eyes. The long flight still hadn't taken all the energy from his brown.

_A herdbeast, or two, would suit me well._

_You deserve much more, with the flying you've done. Still, I think finfish are all that is to be had. Unless you spy prey here._

J'sen stepped onto the brown's raised foreleg and then down to the wet sand of the beach. He leaned against Fesurnth to keep his balance a moment. The long flight made him unsteady. He looked to the red smear of the setting sun, before it was devoured by clouds. Taking his flight cap off, he felt the cool wind ruffle his hair.

The night on this unnamed island would be a long run. Especially when the first, fat drop of rain hit his cheek.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Angela squinted in the sunlight.

They finally had decided to let her out of the quarters they had locked her in before. She sensed a change in feeling. Perhaps one not fully explored yet. It was freedom nonetheless. Her skin seemed to soak up the warmth and the Weyr shook off its wet chill from the previous day's rain.

A few people paused to look at her as she made slow progress down to the Weyr's floor. It didn't surprise her that these people found refuge in dormant, volcano cauldrons. Only problem, was if any of them would ever grow active, these folks would have to totally uproot. Very, very quickly.

To see her first 'dragon' was a huge shock to her.

The beast was settled on the ridge high above them. Its bugle an exact one for some she'd heard before, but nobody would tell her what it was. She'd found her hand reaching instinctively for her sidearm and met only air. Her weapons, like her uniform, had never been given to her. If it had been brought back at all.

When its multi-faceted eyes looked at her, she heard it seem to talk to her.

_I will not hurt you._

Angela could do little more than blink in surprise. She saw the dragon crane its neck and send up another bugle into the high, thin air. Then, it seemed, all of the Weyr's beasts had turned attention to her. Even their caretakers emerged onto the ledges to look down at her from above.

She had a sense that while some were accepting, others were far from.


End file.
